


Mimicry

by odoridango



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Final Haikyuu Quest, Awkward Kageyama Tobio, First Meetings, M/M, Misunderstandings, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-21
Updated: 2016-07-21
Packaged: 2018-07-25 19:43:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7545559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/odoridango/pseuds/odoridango
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Someone tries to shoot Iwaizumi in his own backyard while he's on vacation; suffice to say he doesn't take it lying down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mimicry

**Author's Note:**

> Inspire by a tumbles prompt from the lovely [m00nst3rm](http://m00nst3rm.tumblr.com/): "Archer!Kageyama meeting Knight!Iwaizumi pls"
> 
> tbh i don't even know with Haikyuu Quest I don't even know what happens or what the actual plot is, I just saw the prompt, saw the iwakage and jumped on it. because. iwakage. i also just want to say: in truth there is no awkward kageyama tobio tag bcs lbr that's his default setting

He’s in the forest and there’s someone _shooting_ at him.

‘ _What the fuck_ ,’ Iwaizumi thinks, ‘ _I live here_.’

He’s been here ever since he left Oikawa’s side, training and eking out a living, wondering if he did the right thing. It’s quiet and tranquil, it gives him space to think and think and think and if he’s really being honest with himself he’s pretty tired of thinking himself into circles. Just the day before he’d decided that since he’d already left, he might as well appreciate his temporary hermitage as a well-earned vacation, and figure out what to do when he’s ready.

It’s like Oikawa’s cursed him, because here he is, a day later, running around in his own glorified backyard, getting _shot at._

He’s got nothing but the short sword held ready in his hand, the knife strapped to his thigh, and the light leather protective gear he wears to minimize scrapes against rough tree bark and pesky shrubs, and his assailant has to have a crossbow or something, because the arrows come incredibly quickly, one after the other.

An arrow thuds home into the tree trunk, quivering right by his ear, and he feels a thin line of blood trickling down his cheek. He ducks away right in time, another arrow whistling through the air to strike the same spot, neatly splitting the first arrow in two. Swift, and accurate. Just his luck.

He crouches low to the ground, so the shrubs and bushes give him some cover. Before he was a knight, he was a hunter, and after years of taking down his own game and enduring Oikawa’s antics, he has more than enough patience. There’s the sounds of quiet, faint rustling, the distant crunch and crack of twigs and mulch on the forest floor, the punctuated, indistinct rhythm of sharp swearing. Iwaizumi can’t help but smirk a little to himself. A good archer, but not so good at keeping quiet.

Iwaizumi’s surprised that he didn’t spot his attacker sooner. Tall and swathed in dark greys and blues, he stands out against the forest greenery, creeping cautiously out from behind the trees, eyes darting about. Skittish. He’s young, younger than anyone with shots like that has business being. Iwaizumi doesn’t see any marks or emblems on his attacker’s gear that would indicate his allegiances. If he’s lucky, the guy’s come alone.

The archer creeps closer. There’s no crossbow anywhere in sight, just a sturdy, plainclothes longbow, bare of any sort of ornamentation or decoration. Iwaizumi grits his teeth, annoyed. That’s goddamn ridiculous. No matter, in a place like a forest, a forest that Iwaizumi’s been living in for the last three weeks no less, the ability to move around undetected is key, and right now, this intruder isn’t doing any of that.

When Iwaizumi leaps out to attack, the archer actually manages to parry with a small pocket knife, slipped out from a leather arm guard. His eyes are wide in surprise, belying his age.

“Not bad,” Iwaizumi says in spite of himself, bearing down on his short sword and watching the archer buckle under the pressure. With a grunt, the archer spins his bow towards Iwaizumi’s legs, forcing them apart.

Iwaizumi keeps his muscles loose as he darts away, slips his knife out from its holster, watching the archer carefully. The archer slowly stands, eyebrows and mouth drawn down in a fearsome frown.

“You’re not food,” he says, somehow frowning even harder.

Iwaizumi scowls. “Excuse me?!”

The archer looks off to the side of Iwaizumi’s face, flushing. He makes an aborted, jerky motion towards his head. “Your hair…” he mumbles, “I thought you were a badger.”

“My hair isn’t that spiky!” Iwaizumi snaps, scrubbing a reflexive hand through his hair, as if to check. The archer just fidgets in place, clearly embarrassed. His bow remains at his side, docile, if only for the moment.

Huffing, Iwaizumi sheathes his short sword. “Who eats badgers anyway?”

“I’m hungry,” the archer says petulantly. “And I’ve eaten them before.”

“Did you have to catch one here?” Iwaizumi grumbles, irritated. “I didn’t expect to get shot at so close to my own house.”

Tellingly, the archer shuffles a little, and says nothing, mouth scrunched into a stubborn scowl.

“Don’t tell me,” Iwaizumi says, slow, damning certainty settling heavy on his shoulders. “You’re lost.”

The archer shuffles a little more, picking pointlessly at his armguards and gloves. “Sorry,” he says, chagrined.

Iwaizumi sighs. The fact is, no one has bothered him for weeks. When he’d first left, he would find periodic traces of Kuroo and Kiyoko’s presences around his home. As the days stretched on and Iwaizumi remained living in the forest, those traces slowly faded. Their certainty of his location is what keeps them away. Iwaizumi has no real enemies, no claims to fame. There’s no reason to seek him out, much less with an explanation as slipshod as this one. And he’s not a knight for nothing.

“Come on, I have some leftover stew,“ Iwaizumi says, tucking his knife back into its thigh holster and looking at the archer expectantly.

“Th-thank you!” stutters the archer, dipping his head forward in thanks, awkward and loud, but earnest. He rushes to Iwaizumi’s side with little hesitation.

“I’m Iwaizumi,” Iwaizumi says, since there’s no point in stalling. “What’s your name?”

“Kageyama Tobio,” the archer says, long legs keeping easy pace with Iwaizumi’s brisk trot.

A bit of company might not be so bad.

 


End file.
